You wake up, and time has slipped away ...
I'm just hours home from my mother's house. She is moving on Wednesday to a senior apartment, and my job was to lighten the load by taking memorabilia, family heirlooms, etc. I now own three more pieces of art (?), about a dozen glass objects, three purses, a Chinese doll, and a dusty box full of photos.
The box, smoky and smelly and mostly untouched, was a treasure trove of old playbills from my father's attempt at stage acting, pictures and playbills from my actress great-grandmother - Claire MacDowell - and incongruously, snapshots from my childhood. All the letters I sent my parents from Italy were there, as were my parents' wedding pictures. My mom even gave me her wedding dress, which she had planned to sell. This is truly the dawn of a new era. I'm looking forward to watching my mom blossom as she emerges from under the weight of the house, the silence, and the new life forced upon her when my dad died.
Now, I'm excited about putting my childhood photos into a scrapbook for my daughter. I think this is really cool. You know, I imagine my daughter treasuring the pictures and stories of her mom's girlhood, delicately carrying it from her dorm to her apartment to her first home. She and my husband are much less turned on by this idea. Who wouldn't give a mint to have something like that from their parents or grandparents?
9:56:14 PM 
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